


Dye

by TimmyJaybird



Series: 100 Themes Challenge [21]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Trans Character, ftm Yoosung, hinted/implied Yoosung/Zen/Jumin, let him have a tiny tummy let him live, possible minor spoilers for Zen's route, soft Yoosung
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 07:09:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8153381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimmyJaybird/pseuds/TimmyJaybird
Summary: Zen helps Yoosung dye his hair for the countless time, and he realizes just how typical these nights have become.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The theme used from the challenge was "ever again"! Which made sense in my head and then didn't translate, my bad.
> 
> My like, ultimate ship in this game is Zen/trans Yoosung/ ace-spectrum Jumin (grey-ace) and like... I just... had to express it a little... even if Jumin's not really there. Maybe there will have to be more.

Zen huffed, the hair he was holding between his gloved fingers suddenly being pulled away, as Yoosung leaned forward in his chair. He hunched, moving his mouse quickly, fingers clicking along his keyboard. Zen frowned, folding his arms and leaning against the back of the computer chair.

 

“I told you not to move.” Yoosung didn’t respond, and Zen gave a drawn out sigh, shaking the bottle of dye in one gloved hand. “Are you even listening to me?”

 

“Hmm?” Yoosung glanced back, the front of his hair already plastered with dye and shoved back out of his face. “What’s up?”

 

“You  _ moved _ . I told you, if I was going to do this while you played that game, you had to sit still.”

 

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t even realize!” He turned back, settling back in the chair and tugging at the towel draped over his shoulders. “Are you almost done?”

 

“Yeah,” Zen whispered, grasping some of his hair again and squirting the dye along his roots. “You should just go have this professionally done. It will look better.”

 

“It looks just fine when I do it,” Yoosung said with a shrug, reaching for his mouse and not taking his eyes off his monitor. “Besides, I like when you do it.” Zen hummed, choosing to silently mull that over instead of teasing him further. Much to his joy, Yoosung sat still for the rest of the time it took for him to finish his hair, before Zen was leaving him to toss the gloves off into his trash bin, along with the mostly empty bottle of dye.

 

He plopped down on Yoosung’s bed, leaning up against the wall and picking up the script he’d left there, for a musical he was auditioning for. He could hear in the background the noise from Yoosung’s computer, and the occasional pleased or dismayed sound, depending on how the game was going.

 

This was usual. They had plenty of nights where Yoosung played and Zen quietly read lines to himself. He had a good feeling about this role, and wasn’t  _ too _ nervous that he would be passed up for a different actor. Which meant he didn’t mind the occasional distraction when Yoosung would cheer or curse- was willing to glance up just to see that stupid grin he got, when he got really into his games.

 

That he could enjoy how ridiculous he looked with his hair sticking out, the roots thick and wet with the dye.

 

At one point the game music suddenly ceased, and the wheels of Yoosung’s chair squeaked over the floor. Zen looked up just to see Yoosung hopping up, hurrying over to his closet and tugging the door open. He grabbed his little shower basket, turning and giving Zen a pretty smile. “Be back in a few,” he offered, before he tugged his door open and hurried out into the hallway. Zen watched him go, before letting his script fall to the bed and dropping his head against the wall gently.

 

He wasn’t entirely sure where the turn in his life had been, how his nights turned into hours in Yoosung’s dorm room. How suddenly he could watch him play that ridiculous game and actually begin to piece together what was happening. How he  _ remembered _ that Yoosung had a raid earlier that day with his guild and that he figured it was a good thing he picked up the dye because he  _ knew  _ Yoosung would have forgotten.

 

He felt a buzzing in the pocket of his sweatpants and shifted, tugging his phone out. He thought it might be the chat- it had been shockingly  _ quiet _ for the day, which always left him uneasy. But it was just a simply text message.

 

_ Where are you? _

 

Straight to the point- not that Zen expected anything else from Jumin. He figured, considering the hour, he was up in his penthouse, either sitting at his desk shuffling through papers, or finally collapsing into one of those overly large, plush chairs he had, with his single glass of wine for the night.

 

Most likely with that  _ fur ball _ right under foot.

 

Zen shuddered, if only because it made his nose itch just to think of the cat. But… well, he couldn’t blame  _ her _ for that.

 

_ At Yoosung’s _ was all he sent back, because it wasn’t like Jumin  _ needed _ more. He’d ask if he did, anyway. Zen was still… feeling this out. Trying to get a handle on the fact that this man who had made his blood  _ boil _ had somehow come around to making him feel like  _ smiling _ .

 

Maybe he could blame the shared scandal they had with Echo Girl, and having to overcome that. But more so, he figured it had to do with Jumin opening up a bit. And a bit more.

 

And a bit more, until opening up was Zen wondering what the wine Jumin drank tasted like straight from his lips,  _ and finding out _ .

 

He closed his eyes, still holding his phone, thinking he must have lost his mind. Stress. Definitely. He’d simply lost it all and given up to be where he was…

 

He heard the door creaking back open, but didn’t open his eyes. The sound of the basket being settled down, and then Yoosung’s bare feet and the bed squeaking as he hopped up onto it. Zen opened his eyes just to see Yoosung on his knees, grinning, hair still wet and in little strings right in his face. He smiled, reaching up and trying to brush it back. “You look like a wet puppy,” Zen teased, and Yoosung leaned down, got his hands on the bed and made a point to drag his tongue right up Zen’s cheek.

 

“Yeah?” he asked, snorting a laugh as Zen looked  _ disgusted _ , shoving at the younger’s shoulder and reaching up to scrub his palm over his cheek. “Want me to bark next?”

 

“Funny…” Zen said, even as the disgust was morphing to a smile. “I can think of a few  _ better _ tricks to learn.”

 

Yoosung smiled, fidgeting until he was sitting, curling up to Zen’s chest. “Yeah?” he asked, as Zen’s phone buzzed again, on his thigh. Yoosung reached for it, glancing at the name, before cracking a smile. “Maybe share those ideas later? Looks like someone needs your attention too.”

 

Zen took the phone, unlocking it, realizing he’d missed a few texts.

 

_ Oh. Tell him to have a good evening. _

 

_ Perhaps we can see each other soon. _

 

_ I do mean that as an invitation to the both of you. _

 

Zen smiled, turning the phone so Yoosung could see, and watched the blond full on  _ grin _ . “I’m always down,” he said, leaning his cheek on Zen’s chest, “if he is. I mean… I know it’s still sorta new and strange to Jumin to be  _ into _ us.”

 

Zen nodded, typing out a quick,  _ We’ll talk about it in the morning? We’d like to see you _ . before setting his phone back down and getting his arms around Yoosung, turning and kissing his forehead. “You shouldn’t sleep with wet hair, you know.”

 

That had Yoosung straightening up, pushing at Zen until his shoulders thudded against the wall. He climbed up onto his lap, smiling down at him in that  _ cat who ate the canary _ sort of manner he did, whenever he was sure he was going to get his way.

 

Which was  _ always _ , if Zen was honest.

 

“Yeah?” he asked, rolling his hips in this way that Zen would’ve never thought Yoosung  _ could _ . “Guess you’ll have to keep me away until it dries?” Zen returned the smile now, reaching out and grasping at Yoosung’s waist, fingers pressing into the very subtle, soft swell to his belly. Completely invisible with the way he wore his clothing, but when Zen got him stripped down to his skin and was taking his time kissing every  _ inch _ of him, it was noticeable.

 

If only because the skin and flesh was so  _ soft _ beneath his mouth, while he was working his way towards other things.

 

“Think I can do that,” Zen mumbled, as Yoosung leaned over him, kissed him gently. His hold on the blond tightened, and Yoosung sighed into his mouth, falling into the kisses more and more, until Zen’s hands were under his tshirt, gripping his chest, thumbs pressed to the scars there. It wasn’t on purpose- Zen knew Yoosung didn’t  _ mind _ the scars, but he got nothing from them- simply where his hands always seems to rest, when he was trying to get to Yoosung’s skin, which was always so warm.

 

He was like some sort of eternal  _ heater _ .

 

“I owe you, you know,” Yoosung whispered, moving off Zen’s mouth and towards his ear, “for the help.”

 

“Just make me take back my thoughts on never doing it again,” Zen teased, letting his eyes fall shut as Yoosung found his pulse.

 

“Can do,” he mumbled- and Zen didn’t  _ doubt _ that. After all, he was crazy for this kid, at the end of the day.


End file.
